


Anything You Say

by helens78, Telesilla



Series: You Can Hit Harder Than That [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Awkward Conversations, BDSM, Dom/sub, M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-27
Updated: 2011-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-18 17:29:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/41828">A New Sensation</a>, John and Rodney wake up together.  It's a little awkward, but they might just be on to something here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything You Say

**Author's Note:**

> After "A New Sensation" got linked on sga_storyfinders, we dug into our GDocs and realized we had more of this 'verse! Very belatedly, here's another bit.

When John falls out of bed, the blanket's no match for gravity; he hits the floor with an "oof" and an "ow!" and blinks until he can keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds. "What the...?"

He sits up and frowns at the bed, and that explains it all; Rodney's still in it, still sleeping, and he doesn't look like he knows or cares that he just shoved John out of the bed altogether. John mumbles something unflattering and climbs back into bed, shoving Rodney a little bit to the side.

It starts coming back to him then: the half-hour of sleep he got before Rodney came over, what Rodney actually asked him to do... fucking Rodney afterwards and trying not to think about the fact that he was so turned on his eyes were crossing. _Oooookay. Man, I hope he's not hurt too much._ He double-checks to make sure Rodney's still out and then lifts up the blanket to check on Rodney's ass. _Huh. I wonder what I'm actually supposed to be looking for..._

Fumbling a little, Rodney reaches out for the blankets. He's cold and wants nothing more than to get warm and go back to sleep. The blankets fight back and now his ass is freezing and...what the hell? "Sheppard?" he mumbles, blinking as he stares up at John. "Whatever it is you're doing, stop it; I'm fucking freezing here."

"Shit!" John says, dropping the blankets and trying to be nonchalant about it. "Uh... sorry." He squints toward his clock. "I should be getting up soon."

"Yeah?" Rodney says. "Leave the blankets behind when you do," he adds and rolls over. As he does, he feels a familiar twinge and wakes up enough to remember what happened last night. "Um...this would be the freak out part, right?"

"What? No!" John protests, though he's climbing out of bed--on purpose this time--and grabbing his boxers and his t-shirt on the way to the bathroom. "Of course not. I'm fine."

"You know," Rodney calls after him, "this is why I never said anything before." He sits up and looks around, trying to locate his own clothing. "Fuck," he mutters. "I need coffee if I'm gonna have this conversation."

John sticks his head back out of the bathroom door. "What conversation?" he asks. "No conversation. We're, uh... we're good. I just have a staff meeting."

"No, you don't," Rodney says, rolling his eyes. "Elizabeth gave us today off. And here I thought I was crap when it comes to lying."

Caught, John sighs and leans against the doorjamb. "Okay," he says softly. "I'm a little freaked. How about I shower and we make coffee and you can tell me why I shouldn't be freaking out?"

"Yeah, okay," Rodney says, getting out of bed. He throws his own clothes on and quickly runs down the hall to his own quarters. Looking a little regretfully at his bathroom--he really doesn't have time to shower--he gathers up his coffee making supplies and makes his way back to John's rooms.

"I get to use your shower," he says when John comes out of the bathroom. "I'd have taken one at my place, but I figured you'd duck out if I weren't here."

"I might have found a convenient excuse to go double-check the jumpers or something," John admits. He's got a towel draped around his waist, and he makes his way over to his dresser, grabbing the first clean pair of boxers out of the top drawer. "There might be a spare toothbrush in there if you dig around," he calls back over his shoulder.

"There is," Rodney says. He'd actually brought it over once, although they both pretend not to remember that fact. "Save some of the coffee for me, would you?" He starts in on his teeth, wandering back into the bedroom.

"You don't need to freak out," he says around a mouthful of toothbrush.

John's not the coffee expert Rodney is, but he knows well enough to get the coffee started. It does smell pretty good, though he's always been pretty happy with Maxwell House, or even Sanka in a pinch. And a little coffee to get this conversation going is probably a good idea; even once John's dressed, he doesn't feel as grounded as he should.

He also realizes he ought to say something in response to Rodney's statement, but he's not coming up with much. "Good to know," he says, finally. "You realize I'm trained to beat people up for a living, and those people aren't supposed to like it?"

"Hmph!" Rodney manages, although he realizes he can't really convey the right feeling with a toothbrush in his mouth. He heads back into the bathroom, finishes with his teeth and then leans in the doorway.

"So, Colonel, do you usually go after your enemies with a leather strap while they demand more? Because if you do, then yeah, it is exactly the same thing."

John rolls his eyes. "You know what I'm getting at," he says. "I'm just not used to the idea of hurting someone I--" He's about three words too late to turn that sentence into something that isn't incriminating, so he just stops and tries another direction. "Someone I'm sleeping with," he finishes. "You gotta admit, it's a little..."

"A little?" Rodney waits, but, not all that surprisingly, John doesn't add anything. "Did you like it?" he asks, pretty sure that John did. _He certainly had no trouble fucking me afterward._

"Well... _yeah_ ," John admits, though at the moment he's talking more to his socks than he is to Rodney. "I kinda figured that was obvious."

"And...?" Rodney rolls his eyes. "Look, you normally aren't this clueless; just because you liked hurting me when I was clearly enjoying every moment of it doesn't mean that all of a sudden you're going to get off when you're out there doing the uglier part of your job."

He pauses and takes a deep breath; he's not being fair here, and he knows it. "I honestly don't think that you're that much of a sadist, if that helps any. I pretty much had to talk you into it and then walk you through it and I know damn well that if I'd given the slightest hint that I wanted you to stop, you would have." He looks directly at John.

"Right?"

" _Of course_ I would've stopped," John says, rolling his eyes. "But if you think I didn't want to be doing it once we got started, I, ah... Well." He coughs a little and nods. "I did. Okay? So I'd do it again if you wanted me to, but no, I'm not gonna pull out my belt at random."

"Well, there you go," Rodney says, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Oh, yeah...that's the stuff." The first gulp is always too hot and tastes horrible thanks to the fact he's just brushed his teeth, and it's still one of the best things ever.

"All right," he says, glancing over at John. "I suppose I was being a little flip, but seriously, liking this, even wanting it, doesn't mean you're sick or anything like that. And it's not abuse when you do it to someone who can and will say stop."

"Okay. Well, in that case, just so you know, you can always tell me to stop, and I always will." John crosses his arms over his chest. "There is no way I'd ever fuck around with you on this. I'm not even going to joke about that."

"Okay," Rodney says, and, really, they've never talked so much about their relationship--or whatever it is. He pours John a cup of coffee and it's weirdly comfortable and domestic.

"If there's something you want...something you think I might not be all that into so you never asked...well, now's the time to ask, because, well, obviously I'm kind of okay with the kink and I owe you."

John shakes his head. "I never even really thought... I mean, I've got the same porn on my hard drive as everybody else, I just didn't... I never needed anything extra, you know?" But he's thinking again about how good Rodney's ass looked after he'd been beating it with that strap, wondering what it's going to be like doing it again. How long he's going to have to wait. He ends up fidgeting a little, and he knows he's getting hard.

"Most people don't _need_ extra; in fact, I don't always need it," Rodney says. "That's why it's a kink for me and not a full blown fetish." He drinks more coffee and watches John closely. "Just like...you don't _need_ ketchup on fries; even without it, they're still good."

John frowns. "Did you just compare getting strapped to _ketchup_?" he asks, and the frown doesn't hold for more than a few seconds. He's got one of those ear-to-ear grins splitting his face, and it feels like a lot of the pressure's being lifted.

"Well," Rodney says, and maybe, just to himself, he can admit that what he's feeling as John smiles is sheer, dizzying relief. "I like to put these things in terms even you can understand."

"I tell you what," John says, putting the coffee down and moving up closer to Rodney. "I think we both figured out last night that I'm a little more open to new things than I thought I was. Maybe we can... play around with that some. I mean, not, like, every night or anything like that," he says quickly. "But you know. If you think of something you want me to do to you..."

"You really do have a problem asking for things, don't you?" Rodney says, looking John over. He crosses his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep from just reaching out and grabbing John. "This is me; you don't have to hold back or be subtle."

"I'm not trying to hold back!" John says. "This just isn't the kind of thing I can think up on the spot."

"Okay, fair enough," Rodney says. He finishes his coffee and looks John over. "So...wanna fuck?"

"Right now?" John asks, blinking. He's half-hard just at the suggestion, but who the hell knows if Rodney's serious--sure, neither one of them have meetings planned for this morning, but does that mean now's as good a time as any for more fucking, or is it the conversation or-- _yeah, stop thinking, Shep, 'cause if he isn't serious, he'll say so._

"Yeah," Rodney says, putting his coffee cup down. He moves closer to John and smiles at him. "I'm feeling pretty rested, we have the day off, why not?"

And when you put it like that, there's really no reason to say no. John grins back and pushes right up into Rodney's space. "I could go for having a nice hard dick up my ass about now," he says.

"Imagine my surprise," Rodney says, but he doesn't really try too hard for sarcasm. He's actually rather glad John isn't feeling all that toppy; glad that John realizes that just because Rodney asked for the beating, it doesn't mean Rodney's just going to roll over any time John wants him to.

Reaching out, he grabs John's arm and pulls him close for a kiss, invading John's mouth almost brutally.

John moans and goes with it. He opens up, stays loose under Rodney's hands, under his mouth, and wonders if this is a response to last night--does he need to push like this after every time he takes a beating? _I can handle that_ , John thinks, rubbing his tongue up against Rodney's. _Oh, yeah... hell, yeah._

If pressed, Rodney would admit that this is one of the things he...likes most about having sex with John. Most men push back when Rodney gets like this, but John seems to be perfectly okay with Rodney in the driver's seat. "Bed," he says against John's mouth. "Bed and naked. Now."

John mumbles something affirmative, stripping off his clothes as he stumbles backwards, not sure whether Rodney's pushing him or whether he's pulling Rodney. It doesn't matter as long as they can get to bed _now_.

"On your stomach," Rodney says, grabbing the lube off the nightstand before settling on the bed. _It's my turn to see you come apart._

Complying with that isn't hard at all; John just stretches out and spreads his legs. He reaches under himself to get his cock positioned a little more comfortably before lying down again, and suddenly his brain's filling up with images--getting tied up and having Rodney fuck him _hard_ ; having his wrists tied and getting blindfolded; just plain having to _ask_ for things. His skin feels hot and he's sure his feelings are written all over his face, so he buries his head in the pillows and waits.

Moving in between John's legs, Rodney spreads him open and bends down, licking a broad stripe from just behind John's balls all the way up to the top of his ass. When he licks his way back down, he stops briefly, teasing John's hole for a moment.

"Jesus, Rodney," John groans, muffled through the pillows. He spreads his legs further apart and tries to tilt his hips back; he'd do just about anything for more of that right now.

"Should have known you'd like that," Rodney says with a chuckle. He bends down again and gets a little more serious, licking long and hard before fucking John with his tongue. He's rarely found anyone who isn't completely undone by rimming, and it's nice to know that it works on John.

John groans louder and stretches out until he can get his fingers wrapped around the sculpture at the head of his bed; with all the nooks and crannies this thing's got, he's always thought it was more a pain in the ass than anything else, but all of a sudden it's an anchor, something he can hold onto while Rodney's doing _that_ , and it's good to have the goddamned thing.

John's movement makes Rodney look up for a moment. When he realizes what John's doing, he smiles a little and bites at John's ass cheek. "Don't let go of that," he says firmly and goes back to licking.

"Huh? I--" John glances up at his hands, then back at Rodney, but he only has a couple seconds before Rodney's tongue goes _right there_ and he's burying his face in the pillow again, trying not to let himself get too loud. He tightens his grip on the sculpture, more aware of it now that it's an--well, an order, kinda, yeah, but-- _Jesus, Shep, stop fucking_ thinking _already._

Even muffled by the pillow, John's noises are fantastic and Rodney finds himself wondering if it's the rimming or John being told to do something that's getting such an enthusiastic result. _Maybe both? Or maybe it's the immobility?_

Whatever it is, Rodney's looking forward to finding out. He flips the lube open and slicks up a finger, pushing it easily into John while he bites lightly at John's ass.

So much for worrying about being loud; at this point, John couldn't help it even if he tried. "Rodney! Jesus--fuck me, _please_ ," he moans, "c'mon already..."

"I'm barely getting started here," Rodney says, pushing another finger into John. He holds still for a moment and then twists his fingers, watching John's hands on the headboard/sculpture thingie. _Maybe the Ancients were kinkier than we know._

"Fuck!" John gasps, pushing back against Rodney's fingers. "You're killing me here--c'mon, _c'mon_ , McKay, I'm ready!"

"Tell me," Rodney says, twisting his fingers again. "Tell me what's got you so wound up?"

"Are you kidding me?" John asks. He looks behind him, but the angle's all wrong; he'd have to let go of the sculpture to see Rodney's face, and that's... somehow, that's just not an option. "Rimming, finger-fucking..." _And now this thing where I'm supposed to hold myself still._ "Take your pick," he says, feeling hot all over again. "Rodney, _please_."

That there's more is obvious and Rodney wonders if he can get John to admit it. He knows what's going on with himself; he's used to needing to move the balance of power back onto his side after allowing himself to be made vulnerable, but he's not sure if he should push John or not.

Lowering his head again, he licks once and then pulls back. "Please what?"

"Please--" And suddenly John realizes that as much as he wants to get fucked--no, _needs_ to get fucked--he doesn't know if he wants this to stop. Any of it. Rodney's teasing or the way he's squirming or the grip he's got on the sculpture, the way the stone's rough against his palms. "I just--" Another false start, because John doesn't know _what_ he wants now. "Please," he says again, a little softer.

That John is coming undone like this is kind of surprising, and Rodney slides another finger into him easily. "It's okay," he murmurs, his lips moving against the pale skin of John's ass. "I've got you..." It's strange how seeing John so needy like this brings out an odd gentleness, and Rodney's not sure what that means.

 _Yeah,_ John thinks, and suddenly it's all so easy--trusting Rodney, of all people, to take care of him when he's like this. He groans as he feels Rodney stretching him open and tries to rock his hips back. "Need it... please, Rodney... please, yeah, feels so fucking good..."

Licking around his fingers one more time, Rodney kneels up and pushes a third finger in. "I could do this to you all morning," he says, licking his way up John's back. "Have you turn over and keep your hands up and watch you ride my fingers while I suck your cock." It's not a bad idea, really, although he's a little too horny himself to be that patient.

It doesn't sound bad to John, either, although in all honesty almost _anything_ would sound good right now. Anything but having Rodney stop whatever it is he wants to do. "Just... yeah," he pants, "just _please_ , c'mon, let me--Rodney, _please_ , dammit!"

Rodney bites at John's shoulder. "I'm going to fuck you now," he says, pulling his fingers out of John's ass. "Keep hanging on."

Spreading John open, he pushes in, gritting his teeth against the desire to just fuck John as hard as he can. It doesn't help that he's imagining doing this while John is properly restrained.

The rough stone's really starting to cut into John's hands now, and he groans out loud as Rodney shoves into him. Under the best of circumstances, John isn't profound, and so the fact that all he can say is "Oh, _fuck_ , Rodney," isn't a big surprise. But he feels hot all over, and just like last night, he's starting to wonder if it's just his imagination or if he's figuring out sex all over again.

"Oh yeah," Rodney moans. John's tight and hot and, even better, he's doing as he's told. Rodney looks at John's hands, clenched tight on the stone, and he groans again, grabbing John's hips and shoving back into him hard.

"More," John gasps, even though he's getting as much cock as he could reasonably expect to handle right now. He's not just talking about being fucked, though, and--well, maybe Rodney understands that. "C'mon, _more_ , Rodney, _please..._ "

For a moment, Rodney's not sure what John wants, given that he's fucking John pretty much as hard as he can. He looks at John's hands and gets an idea. "Quiet," he says, trying not to sound too breathless. "You can make all the noises you want, but no more words." He goes still for a moment, both to punctuate the order and to try to cover his own worry that he's picked the wrong thing here. _It's not like he talks all that much anyway and I don't know what else I could have had him do...._

But John exhales, hard and slow, and nods into the pillows, and he pushes back against Rodney. The order makes sense right now, and later maybe he'll think a little more about what it means that he's finally taking orders without question--and taking them from _Rodney_ , for God's sake--but right now all he cares about is getting fucked and doing whatever Rodney tells him.

"Oh, that's good," Rodney pants. "You're...good," he adds, letting go of John's hip with one hand. "Want you to wait...wait until I tell you...." He strokes John's cock roughly. "Don't come yet...."

The startled noise John lets out is part pleasure and part disbelief; don't come yet? While Rodney's doing _that_? He squirms hard against Rodney's grip, making more impatient sounds. It's one thing doing what he's told, but hell, his cock's got some ideas of its own when it comes to how long he can take all of this, especially _now_ , for Christ's sake.

"Good," Rodney manages to get out. "God, you're so...." _So good, so hot...so obedient._ And wow, but Rodney never guessed that John had this in him, would be like this for anyone, let alone Rodney. "The things I'm going to...do to you," he says, and just the thought of telling John what to do is more than enough; Rodney groans loudly and comes hard, his hand falling away from John's cock.

So much for not coming; John couldn't hold back now if he tried. He groans, too, nothing in words, of course, and although his grip on the sculpture loosens some, he doesn't let it go completely. His head's just clear enough for him to think _Two out of three, not bad_ , before collapsing under Rodney and trying to get his breath back.

Panting as if he'd just frantically run for his life, Rodney collapses on John's back. He hadn't really expected John not to be able to come, and he's a little too busy enjoying the afterglow to be upset. After a moment, he rolls to one side, running a hand along John's hip as he settles next to him. "That was," he begins, and then stops, only now realizing that John's still holding on to the thing at the head of the bed.

"Oh, God," he breathes. He reaches up and strokes John's hand. "You can let go, and talk if you feel like it." _Not that he will, of course._

John takes Rodney up on the offer to let go, but talk? Now? He ends up chuckling and shaking his head, and throwing an arm over Rodney's chest. If that's snuggling, well, so be it. He's too smug and pleased with all this to mind.

"You're good," Rodney says, stroking John. He's not about to go further; to be honest, he's not at all interested in calling John "boy", the very idea is ridiculous. But still...John was told to do something, and for the most part he did it. "You're really good at this."

"This is what I've gotta do to get a compliment out of you?" John teases; it comes out in a half-mumble, and he has to struggle not to yawn afterwards. It sort of hits him with the aborted yawn-- _Jesus, look what we're doing._ That's something he'd rather not think about right now, though, not while he's comfortable and at dire risk of falling asleep on Rodney. _Later. Think about it later._

"Yeah," Rodney says with a slight grin. "Savor it, because next time you're in big trouble if you come when I say you can't." He thinks he managed to keep his voice steady, even light, but he's suddenly aware of all the implications in what he just said. _What_ is _it with me? I just open my mouth and the words come out._

"Big trouble, huh," John mumbles into Rodney's chest. "What else is new..." There's probably something about what Rodney said that ought to worry him, or at least get enough of his attention to wake him up, but right now he's missing it.

"Shut up and go back to sleep," Rodney says, resting a hand in the middle of John's back, between his shoulder blades. It looks good there, his broad hand on John's lean back, and he can easily imagine pressing John down like that, using his own strength to keep John pinned to the bed.

"Oh yeah," he murmurs softly and finally yawns, ready to sleep now.

 _-end-_


End file.
